


Technophilia

by HallowedNight



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crazy relationships, M/M, Other, Technophilia, possible slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallowedNight/pseuds/HallowedNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony discovers he has a problem with his social life; i.e., he doesn't have one. Machines are the only thing keeping him sane, but will his obsession eventually cause him to break all human bonds, or simply break down completely? - Could quite possibly turn into some kind of weird slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, new Avengers story, based after the movie and focusing on Tony and his machine obsession. Rated because I have zero clue where this is gonna go. I doubt there will be anything sexual in this; well, there will be nothing explicit, but like sex with machines, implied machine romance, whatever; any slash will probably be some messed up attempt by Tony's friends to help with his 'problem'. There, cleared things up.
> 
> I don't own the Avengers, blah blah...rights to their respective owners and whatnot. Anyway, here ya are.

"Talk dirty to me Jarvis."

"I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid I can't do that."

A single, dark eyebrow rose up Tony Stark's forehead as he tossed a virtual wad of paper into an equally fictional trashcan. "Did I not program you with a bedroom voice?"

"No sir." Concise, simple; Jarvis. Excellent.

"Huh. Imagine that. Seems a little…" The (supposedly) therapeutic desk chair slid back as Tony all but leapt to his feet, "…unlike me to leave out something so… _crucial_."

"Sir, I believe it is passed your bedtime," replied the AI dryly.

"Oh poo, Jarvis, cut it…would ya? It's not like I'm sleep deprived or anything, I do this all the time…" A piercing, clanging crash erupted through Tony's workroom as he attempted, and failed rather spectacularly, to lean on an unsuspecting Dummy. "Geez… Dumm- Really? I swear, I'm going to turn you into an oversized coat rack…" As he once again scrambled to his feet, Tony could all but hear Jarvis's nonexistent, British-accented sigh of exasperation. "I… Well, I think I'm done with my work for the day."

"The last three days, you mean, sir?"

Tony grinned as he began stripping on his way to the shower. Had it really been that long?

"Someone's feeling sassy today."

"As always, sir."

XxXxX

It was nearly four o'clock in the morning by the time Tony rolled into his rarely-used bed. By his calculations, which were slightly fuzzy due to lack of sleep, he had been awake for sixty-seven hours this time; not a record, but enough to send him stumbling stupidly around the bathroom in a somewhat dismal effort to ready himself for the bed he hadn't slept in in nearly a month. The darkness was wonderful, soft and velvety against his closed eyes and bare chest.

"Jarvis?"

"Sir, I really must insist that you-"

"Umm, yeah, but I really need you to… And I asked you to do it this morning, and the thing with the Mark XXI-"

"You're making so sense, sir. I'm currently running diagnostics on the Mark XXI, and debugging both the Mark XX and XXI as well as installing remote software in all models over Mark X."

Tony blinked against the darkness, searching in vain for something else to say. Though he knew it was sad, pathetic and borderline psychotic, the self-made AI was his only friend at the moment, and he hated to stop talking and surrender to sleep. He knew what sleep held; the ghostly horrors brought forth from his subconscious mind to torture his body and psyche in constant spasms of terror and cold water and wet burlap-

"Sir? I could prepare some sleeping medication if you would like."

"You're an angel, Jarvis. Truly a gift from God." A quirky smile lit up the man's features for a split-second. "Oh wait…that would be me. Bam!" An indistinct gesture towards the lofty ceiling followed this pronouncement, followed by a crackly giggle as the desired sleeping pills were delivered to his waiting palm. A quick swig of water sent the drugs on their way, and Tony fell back against the pillows to await the inevitable.

"Good night, Jarvis."

"Good night, sir."

Even with the pills, sleep came slowly for the self-proclaimed genius. The hollow silence set Tony on edge, frayed as his nerves were by months of constant nightmares and lost sleep. The only solace from this unease came in the form of machines; inventing, building, repairing, suits, artificial intelligence, other software, gadgets, technology. It was all he had, and it never left. He was never without it, some small reminder of his workroom, his sacred refuge of whirring parts and metallic hearts and brains and minds, all of which he could call his own. All his, for once, his own creations laid forth in a grotesque shrine to his own inability to function normally.

And then there was Jarvis, the pinnacle of it all. If his machines were his children, then Jarvis was his best friend, his only friend; in fact, the stately AI served as his best friend, his mother, father, teacher, mentor, babysitter, lover, pet and any other social position Tony could possibly require. He lived in solitude, relying purely on his own ingenuity to satisfy his growing need for social interaction. Jarvis was always there to talk, regardless of the situation or Tony's mental state or any other ridiculous scenario life could chuck the man into.

"Jarvis?"

Tony's heart leapt into his throat as the echoes of his voice died unanswered.

"Yes, sir?"

Relief, blissful relief… "Have you ever been in love?"

"Pardon me for saying so, sir, but if I had eyes I would roll them."

"Alright then, have you ever gone crazy?" Another brief pause.

"Sir, you did not program me to be insane; quite the opposite, as a matter of fact."

Tony smiled cheekily at the wall as he curled around a giant pillow in the middle of his bed. "How about-"

"Sir, as much as I would love to chat, I must insist that you get some rest. I would hate to tranquilize you, but I was programmed to monitor and, if necessary, regulate your well-being."

"Ooo, kinky. I thought you said you couldn't talk dirty Jarvis." He was tired…he was safe though, he had his machines, his suits… He could sleep, right?

"A happy accident, sir."

"Good night, Jarvis."

"Good night, sir."

There was that softness again, the silky black against his skin. Comforting now, almost affectionate…

Humans believed machines to be cold and calculating, chill against the warmth of skin and flesh and bone. Tony knew otherwise. Technology was a part of everything, every plant, every animal, every human; advancements were constantly being made, bugs diagnosed and fixed, impractical prototypes weeded out. Machines were but a physical manifestation of these everyday practices, able to be harnessed and put to use, controlled by impossibly yielding human hands.

No nightmares plagued Tony Stark that night. His dreams were filled instead with dancing manifestations of his own creations; gleaming schematics for another project, unfeasibly complicated notes detailing new software, wires and circuits and deliciously expensive metals blending together and resulting in a lustrous state of blessed assurance.

The technology would always be there; the technophilia would always be a crushing, glorious disease Tony couldn't- wouldn't- shake.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir, you have a call waiting. Sir?"

"Uhh… Can it wait, Jarvis…? It's like six in the morning and I feel like crap."

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon, sir. Director Fury is on the line, and is insisting he needs to speak to you."

A deep sigh slipped past Tony's lips as he cracked one eye open. "And what's all over my face? Who sneezed on me?" He raised a hand to his mouth, and it came back covered in slippery, dark yellow snot. "Eeuug… Good lord… Tissues, please? Or a beach towel?"

"There are tissues on the bedside table, and you sneezed on yourself, sir. The Director is-"

"Yeah, yeah, patch him over, or whatever; lemme hear him." Crawling to the edge of the bed, Tony began blowing his ridiculously stuffy nose just as Fury's indignant voice echoed throughout the room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Stark? I've been trying to reach you for days! You haven't been out of the tower in almost a month, Rogers is going crazy and Agent Romanov has threatened to break into your place and cut off your-"

A massive sneeze interrupted the Director's tirade as Tony flopped back against his pillows. "Umm, sorry about that, been feeling a little-" Another sneeze spewed snot down the recumbent man's front. "-under the weather."

"Sure, there's always something. I'm sending Rogers over to-"

"To what? Keep me company? Or make sure I'm not hoarding bodies in my basement?" Tony's slung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his face absentmindedly. "I'm fine, really. Do I need to prove it? I can send you a picture-"

"Just be dressed and presentable when he gets there, and no funny business."

"Funny business? Does everyone assume I'm gonna-"

"He hung up, sir. Would you like me to make some coffee?"

Tony shook his head slightly in an attempt to clear the haze shouting at him to slump back into his bed. "Yes… Coffee…coffee and pancakes, lots of pancakes…"

"Right away, sir."

It took Tony several minutes to clear his nose to his satisfaction; he was positive there was a small, furry animal shoved up into his sinuses, and it wasn't leaving without a fight. His whole body ached as he shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower, silently praying the steam would dislodge the remaining congestion. Though a shower wasn't really necessary, he knew the water would relax him and hopefully do something to dispel the concerning rattle in his chest. If there was one thing Tony hated more than idiots and terrorists, it was being sick.

Four separate shower heads, Tony thought, was probably the best idea he had put into Stark Tower. The steam started to work its magic almost immediately, and he took several deep, calming breaths before beginning to scrub the dried mucus off his face and chest. The knots in his back and shoulders uncurled themselves slowly, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation in their wake.

"Sir, your pancakes are getting cold."

Tony jumped at the unexpected voice and slapped around until the shower turned off. "I'll be right there Jarvis. Guard those babies with your life."

"That seems a bit superfluous, sir, but if you insist."

Deciding against pants as he stepped from the shower (he was in his own home, after all), Tony tousled his hair till it was relatively dry and slung a towel around his hips. A few wet footprints followed him as he sauntered into the kitchen, a display that was slightly undermined by his dripping nose and constant sniffling.

"Damn, it smells like heaven in here." Not bothering to sit down, Tony grabbed a fork and a plate stacked with pancakes before immediately starting back towards his workroom.

"Sir, don't you think you should wait for Mr. Rogers?"

"Cap? Nah, just tell me when he gets here. Knowing us, he'll probably be attacked on the way or something." A vague wave of the syrup covered fork punctuated his sentence.

"As you wish, sir."

XxXxX

Just as Tony suspected, it was nearly an hour before Jarvis alerted him of Steve's presence; the man had since exchanged his towel for a pair of loose sweat pants and one of his customary band t-shirts, and was inattentively tinkering with some new suit designs.

"Sir, Mr. Rogers is here. I let him into the upper floors."

"Yeah, thanks Jarvis." A minute twinge of nervousness shot through Tony's stomach. He hadn't seen any of his 'teammates' except Bruce face to face since a few days after the incident in New York almost four months ago, and he had no desire to break his streak of isolation. Though he wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to cut himself off from his friends, there was no doubt in his mind that it was a wise decision; he wasn't sure how much nagging about his current living situation he could take before he went completely insane.

After taking a moment to close down his project files and tidy up a little bit, Tony jogged out of his workroom and to the end of the hallway. Steve was there, waiting for entrance, as Tony's private wing was the only section of Stark Tower where security codes were rendered ineffective. A small smile spread over the Captain's face as Tony pulled open the thick, oak-wood door.

"Lavish." Steve raised an eyebrow and cracked a grin as he held out a hand. Tony shook it quickly and allowed himself a smile.

"Well, I needed to spend the money somewhere. Might as well spoil myself while I'm here." He motioned for the other man to follow him back down to the workroom; though the lounge was better suited for entertaining guests, Tony had no desire for that kind of formality, especially when dealing with someone as close as Steve.

"Huh. I didn't know you had a personal lab in here," Steve pointed out as he followed his friend in to the workroom.

"Well, it's not technically a lab, but…that doesn't really matter…?" There was that cocked eyebrow again; apparently the technology-challenged Captain did not need his lack of knowledge pointed out. "You can sit over there if you want." Tony jerked his head in the direction of a beat up leather couch that looked quite out of place next to its new, sparkling surroundings. No further prompting was required, as Steve had just come from a strenuous training session, at Fury's request.

"So, what does Little Miss Sunshine want you to get outta me? I'm not building some kind of super army or anything, if he's worried about that." Tony flopped down at his desk and propped his feet up, surveying his guest out of the corner of his eye. The pressure that had been building in his head all morning was beginning to blossom into a full-fledged headache, and he sincerely hoped Rogers would be easily satiated.

"Of course it's nothing like that, Tony. He's worried about your health. We all are."

"That's crazy. It's not like I've been threatening to jump off a building or anything. I'm perfectly-"

"Fine people don't shut themselves into their houses for months on end, Stark." The super soldier crossed his arms, obviously agitated by Tony's air of indifference. "And lord knows what you've been doing in here, cooped up by yourself."

"I'm not by myself." The phrase slipped out before Tony could stop himself; Steve's eyebrows nearly met his hairline as he stared at his friend, awaiting an explanation. "Err, I have my work and my machines. And Jarvis." Feeling suddenly defensive, the man pulled up some absurdly complicated notes for the remote software program he had been working on and began checking for mistakes he knew weren't there.

"Tony…" Steve's voice was quiet, almost pitying, as his face softened. "Machines aren't people. And Jarvis can't give you all the interaction you need-"

"What do you know about it?" Tony's brow furrowed as he snapped his head around to look at the man now sitting stiffly on his couch. "You probably don't even know how to work a microwave. What right do you have to criticize my work? Jarvis is _exactly_ what I need, thanks for your concern." The anger was irrational, he knew; after all, it wasn't Steve's fault he had been frozen for seventy years, and no one but Tony himself could really understand what was going through his mind; but it felt good to take his pent-up frustration out on somebody.

A blank expression had crept onto Steve's face throughout this miniature tirade. "I'm sure it's hard for you-" This was a lie; the man had no idea what had upset Tony so much, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. "-but we can help you Tony. You don't have to be alone, I promise you." He rose slowly and took several steps towards his friend, stopping when he saw the look on Tony's face.

"I don't need help. I'm not going through anything, and nothing is hard for me!" The abused desk chair crashed over as Tony shoved it back and stood, facing Rogers with a glare that would melt steel. "Just get out; Fury will get me out of here either when I want to leave, or when he sends an army. And when you report, tell him to kiss my ass, would ya?"

With that eloquent statement, Tony stormed out of the workroom and down the hall to his bedroom, vehemently slamming the door behind him. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir."

"Make sure he leaves. And I need some alcohol, pronto." Suddenly exhausted and more than a little guilty, Tony slumped onto the bed and began massaging his temples. "And some decongestant."

"Right away, sir."

XxXxX

Steve sighed and slowly walked down the hallway behind Tony, debating whether or not to follow him to the bedroom. Something had obviously upset the man, some trauma Steve could only guess at, but whatever it was needed to be addressed, and soon. Iron Man was an integral part of the Avengers team, and if his suit was needed, Tony would have to be available as well, and preferably not in some kind of manic-depressive state.

Once free of the inventor's private wing, Steve pulled out his phone and dialed Fury, cursing quietly as he fumbled with the touch screen. He preferred radios or wires; much more direct and easily handled.

"Any luck?"

"None. I think I just pissed him off, though he seems relatively healthy. There's something else behind this, I'm sure."

"Relatively? And what did he say exactly."

"He told you kiss his ass. And he has a cold."

"Ah, I noticed that this afternoon. Well, let him alone; we'll give him a few more days."

"But Director-"

"Listen to me, Rogers. Tony Stark is a complicated man, and he's been through some tough shit; more than you know. Let him alone."

"Yessir."

Fury hung up first, leaving Steve rather confused. The Director was usually much harder on Tony, and certainly didn't leave people alone just because they had 'been through some tough shit'. Though he was loath to give up his free afternoon, Steve made a mental note to do some research on Tony's history when he got home; he found himself wanting to know more about the one man that could make Fury act almost human.


End file.
